


Secret Birthday

by Hobbitfing



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 16:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2395706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbitfing/pseuds/Hobbitfing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nori doesn't do birthdays. Dwalin wants to celebrate, at least a little, even if the only way is to set a not-so-elaborate Nori!trap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blue_Sparkle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/gifts).



> It has absolutely no relevance to this story, but Thorin is King Under The Mountain with Bilbo and Bofur as his consorts. 
> 
> This was written by my wife and I, but she doesn't have an AO3 account.

Scowling, Dwalin made his way up the steep rock face with the help of a few barrels and handholds. He knew Nori would still be up there when he got there, unless he was really sulking. Most of the time, Nori was kind enough to allow Dwalin to catch up to him if it involved climbing.

A small hail of apple pips landed on Dwalin’s face, catching in his beard. The core flew past, barely missing his mangled ear. 

With a grumble, the muscular dwarf pulled himself up over the edge and climbed the incline to his grinning lover. “Thanks for your help,” he sat next to Nori and passed him the bag from over his shoulder. 

“You’re welcome,” Nori replied, delicately spitting the final seed to bounce off Dwalin’s nose. “Took you long enough.” Nori took the bag and automatically began rummaging through it.

“Lamb pies,” Dwalin told him, not that there was much in the bag other than the pies. “Birthday pies.”

Nori raised an exquisitely braided eyebrow, half a pie already shoved in his mouth. If someone handed him a bag, or even offered the remotest instant of inattention that allowed his hand into a bag, he went through it and took what he liked. “Birfda’ psss?”

“It’s your birthday today, if Dori’s ‘happy birthday Nori’ decorations and fairy cakes are any indication,” Dwalin smirked at him, swiping a bit of gravy off Nori’s beard.

Nori grumbled something incomprehensible, grabbing Dwalin’s hand and popping the finger in his mouth to steal the gravy back. He gave it a lingering suck with a wicked smirk. “You might’ve noticed I’m not there.” He sprawled back on a soft patch of moss, hands tucked beneath the back of his head, elbows out, the very picture of peace and relaxation…which wouldn’t fool anyone. 

Dwalin chuckled, “I did notice. Also noticed you missed lunch,” he flopped down in front of Nori, laying his head on his thief’s chest. “Want some company?”

“Ooph!” Nori adjusted them until he was comfortable and could breathe. “Yeah, you can stay.” Within moments, his fingers had caught a thick strand of Dwalin’s hair and were busily braiding a tight, complicated braid. His stomach grumbled—unfortunately, avoiding Dori and other well-wishers had meant missing lunch. “Can you reach the pies?”

“Mhm,” he dragged the bag over and handed Nori another pie. “I figured you’d rather be up here than get fussed over.”

“Mmm. It’s like you know me or something.” Nori didn’t sound entirely happy about that, but he took a pie, making sure to drip as much gravy and crumbly crust on Dwalin as possible. “You weren’t followed?”

The big dwarf brushed away crumbs with a grimace. “What do I look like, an amateur?”

Nori lifted his head as much as he could beneath Dwalin’s weight. “Well…you’ll do. Wanna smoke now.” He didn’t want to be fussed over, but he did like bossing Dwalin around. 

Dwalin fished out his pipe and a bag of pipe-weed, passing it up to Nori. They often had a smoke together after lunch and he’d actually gotten used to eating and smoking while high off the ground. It felt safe-ish up on the rooftops of Erebor, with all the stone to press against, but it was still a little uncomfortable. Sometimes it made him too nauseous to eat, but he’d never give Nori the satisfaction of admitting that.

Nori took a few long, thoughtful puffs. “Could’ve lit it for me,” he grumbled, blowing smoke at the side of Dwalin’s head. “You…had lots of birthdays, didn’t you? Before the dragon, I mean.” 

“Mhm,” he stroked Nori’s chest. “Amad would take me to the forge with her while Adad cooked all day. I was allowed to make anything I wanted at the forge… within reason,” he grinned, “and then we’d eat and play games once we were done at the forge. All my cousins would come and lots of aunts and uncles. It was nice.”

“What did you make?” Nori let the pipe hang from his mouth, both hands knuckle-deep in Dwalin’s hair. 

Dwalin gave a happy groan. “Axe heads, knives, knuckle-dusters. I tried to make a raven once, but it didn’t turn out.”

“Lots of food, I expect. Do you have anything you made? Did you find any?”

“Balin kept one of the knives I made, he uses it to sharpen his quills. Other than that, who knows where they ended up,” he looked up at Nori, taking the pipe from between his teeth and taking in a lungful of smoke before passing it back. “You remember any birthdays from before?”

Nori shrugged, his fingers working twice as quickly, pulling a little painfully. 

Hissing, Dwalin pulled his head away. “All right, I won’t ask again.”

“…sorry. Yeah. One or two. And then…” He shrugged again, undoing a bit of braid and redoing it more gently. “This…this isn’t so bad,” he admitted, taking another deep draw of smoke. “Don’t tell Dori, or I’ll do unspeakable things to your undergarments. Again.”

“I’ll keep it to myself,” he nodded. “But the games and drinking might be fun too.”

Nori laughed. “Haven’t you been paying attention? Every day since we got the mountain habitable again has been games and drinking.” 

“You don’t want anyone toasting you.”

“No, I don’t! I’ve had more than enough of that for…three lifetimes.” 

Dwalin sat up, took the pipe from Nori’s lips and kissed him soundly. 

“Much better.” Nori nibbled Dwalin’s lip and moustache, helpfully gathering a few stray crumbs. “If birthdays were like this…I might not mind them so much.”  


“That can be arranged,” Dwalin rumbled.


End file.
